


The Inevitable Fall of Father Sinclair

by thatonegrosskid



Category: Corruption of Champions, Original Work
Genre: Canon-Typical Noncon, Canon-Typical Violence, Multi, Other, Priest Kink, SO, its just coc but with a priest champion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonegrosskid/pseuds/thatonegrosskid
Summary: Father Sinclair was a simple man. He was young for a priest, a bit on the heavier side, had short red hair and freckles to match and he carried a golden cross around his neck, a family heirloom and symbol of his devotion. He prayed for his flock, he read old books, he cooked for the needy, he gardened, he wished the best upon the world. He would say he lived a normal, quiet life in his small village.[A priest gets sent into Mareth and gets, understandably, fucked up.]
Relationships: father sinclair/everyone
Kudos: 5





	The Inevitable Fall of Father Sinclair

**Author's Note:**

> wallace, don't read this.
> 
> this is purely an excuse to be a priest fucker with my partner. a good amount of the dialogue is ripped straight from the game and everything else is an interpretation of the text. its just. the game (and a leetle extra because i sure do love Father Sinclair).
> 
> first chapters just set up so pffft

Father Sinclair was a simple man. He was young for a priest (but certainly wasn't a teenager anymore), a bit on the heavier side, had short red hair and freckles to match and he carried a golden cross around his neck, a family heirloom and symbol of his devotion. He prayed for his flock, he read old books, he cooked for the needy, he gardened, he wished the best upon the world. He would say he lived a normal, quiet life in his small village. 

So of course, it was to his great surprise when he was chosen to be the next champion of Ingnam. He thought it must have been some prank, a young candidate has written his name on his ballot in the hopes of being spared the mantle. The elders were rightfully furious that some young man or woman would try to get out of their sacred duty this way.

Sadly, whoever is chosen is chosen, so says the law. A test then, from the lord, he thought. However his name came to be drawn, he made his preparations to go into the accursed demon realm. Anything to stop the chaos that has reigned without a champion. 

He was given simple fighting clothes, a tent and sleeping mat, a simple run down of some of the creatures he might have to fight and the prayers of his congregation. Then he was sent up Mount Ilgast. 

He walked part the way with an elder, but the last stretch and into the cave, he had to go himself. The air was thin and cold, but Father Sinclair gripped his cross and was determined to persist. He made it up to the save and gasped in the thick, warm air thankfully, taking no notice of the frightful appearance of the cave entrance. The cave was far warmer than he had expected, strangely damp as well, and the feeling sunk into his skin, settling in the pit of his stomach and against his private area. It discomforted him, but he was told to expect this, so he pressed on. 

He prayed for strength, took a breath and leapt through the portal. 

Vertigo hit him immediately, sending him to his knees on the other side, and he blacked out...

  
  


When Sinclair wakes, it’s to a splitting headache and an overwhelming desire burning through him. He’s never felt anything like this, the blood rushing hot through his body and towards his nether region. Still, he sees when a shadow falls over him and struggles to get to his feet, not being as agile as any of the young candidates who had been trained long before the choosing. Before him stands some kind of imp, short, red skin, hooved feet, horns and all. It takes the priest a moment to realize that the thing is completely naked, it’s member hard and impossibly large for it’s small stature.

The desire burning through him surges and his thoughts turn from survival to... something else. The image of him taking hold of the imp, crudely pumping his... his cock into its mouth, relieving himself of this heat. The thought shocks him. It scares him. 

“I’m amazed you aren’t already chasing down my cock, human.” The imp says harshly, waving a small empty vial in its hands, “The last Champion was an eager whore for me by the time she woke up. This lust draft made sure of it.”

Its words send a chill down Father Sinclair's spine and he reaches for his cross on instinct. Not only was his ambush planned, he wasn’t the first victim. Not a day into the demon realm and he’s already been drugged. He trembled, first with need, but then with anger. Anger for him self and the champions before him.

In one part desperation and one part righteous anger, he leaps up at the imp, feeling some kind of glee as the monster's sure and cocky face falls into fear. The little thing was no match for his strength, even with his lack of training and he allowed himself some, dare he say, pride as the imp scattered away from him, obviously frightened.

The imp opened its wings, hovering out of Sinclair’s reach, trying to suppress it’s shudder. “FOOL! You could have had pleasure unending...” It began to fly away, “But should we ever cross paths again you will regret humiliating me! Remember the name Zetaz, as you’ll soon face the wrath of my master!”

His pride fell as the imp’s image flew out of his sight. He felt ashamed, deeply so. For being victimized so easily, for taking such joy in violence, for the want still pulsing through him. He promised himself to find the demon that imp called his master, and give peace to the champions who came before him.

Father Sinclair stood, looking around himself to try and figure out his next move. The portal was a few yards away, nestled between a group of rocks, and he realized that it doesn’t have the same effect on this side as back in the cave, thank the Lord. 

Though the land and sky are both shades of red, casting a strange hue over everything around him, the ground beneath his feet felt as natural as it had back home. Not wanting to stray from the portal in case any other dangerous beasts were to cross back to his home, he settles on making his camp there. No monster or beast would ravage his village, not with him watching over it.

He sets his tent up quickly, along with the few simple traps he could learn before he was sent off. He would need to explore the land for more supplies, but for now, he set up a small area for him to pray and meditate.

It takes a long while until he feels like he can move on, so much so that he can see the sun has moved in the sky. He stands, relieved to have gotten rid of the aching need inside him, replaced by a sense of calm and cool. 

Tentatively, he steps towards the boundaries of his camp, looking out at this new world. He’s scared, unbelievably so, but he must go on. With a deep breath, he steps out of his camp.

He stays alert and ready for anything, watching the sky for flying imps or harpies and the ground for demons and hellhounds. He keeps an eye on any landmarks, leaving small markings on the rocks he passed to leave a path back to his camp. It scared him, knowing that the portal was unguarded once again, that some  _ beast  _ could attack those he cared for and he would be none the wiser. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, fighting exhaustion.

He pauses, looking ahead of him. Was that... his campsite? Had he been walking in a circle for an hour? The portals glow could be seen from inside the rocky boundary of his camp, and unless there was another portal to this land, it had to be the one he came from. 

He rushed forward and in doing so, saw his markings from before vanish before his eyes. He stopped in front of his camp, reeling from this new information. He swore he was miles away... but, maybe the distance or location didn’t matter? How did...

It took him a moment, standing there thinking to realize he returned as he was picturing his camp! So that was how... he figured it must be his memory that brought him back, likely through some kind of strange magics. This wouldn’t help in the slightest with exploring, but it comforted him knowing he was only a thought away from being back at his camp. 

Freshly determined by his new, Sinclair turned away from his camp and walked into the unknown. He made his way slowly but steadily, careful not to over exert himself or accidentally start his search over thinking about his cool bed roll back at camp. He watched the ground under him for a while, hard packed and a strange pink colour as it slowly transformed. He felt a rush of cool air and suddenly he wasn’t on a barren patch of dirt, but looking up into a lush forest. 

He smiles, walking into the greenery without thinking. The plants look safe and familiar and he sends up a prayer for this as a sign to take comfort and as good things to come! With a swelling heart, he remembers the memory traveling from before and decides to test it, closing his eyes and picturing the rocks around his campsite as he walks forward into the brush. He feels dizzy for a moment as reality blurs, but when he opens his eyes, he’s back at camp!

Amazed, he sets off once again, ready to keep exploring until dark!

In quick succession, he finds a vast desert, a cool lake, a frightening mountain, and a strange man selling wares along the road named Giacomo (who he had no money to buy from, of course). And luckily, he had encountered no more monsters! Figuring that would be enough for the day, he makes his way back to the lake, hoping for a nice walk along the shore.

As he's walking, he sees what looks to be a farm house up in the distance. He rushes over, sweating by the time he makes it over, excited for any signs of civilized  _ people! _

Around the farm house are lush gardens that make his stomach rumble in hunger. All the food looked normal enough...

“Welcome stranger!”

He startles, looking up to a figure standing in the middle of a pepper patch and slowly coming toward him. He tries to hide his shock seeing her, but... The woman seem to have fur! And features like a dogs!

“it sure is pleasant to see a new face 'round here,” She puts out her hand... paw? To shake his, “My name’s Whitney, and it’s mighty fine I don’t have to pitchfork you like most guests!”

“Whatever do you mean?” the priest asks, though he realizes how silly that was soon after.

“Well the demons and monster of course!” she laughs, a friendly belly laugh that puts him at ease, “The demons can’t stand coming out around the lake for long, luckily, and the monsters seem to be weakened by it, so it’s a great place to set up!”

“That’s truly amazing!” He looked around them, to the clear sky and calm blue waters. He wouldn’t want to encroach on her, but he wouldn’t mind setting up around here either. 

“Ah, well, I’ve got to get back to work,” She blushes, strangely visible through her fur, “but you help yourself to the peppers, hun!”

She waves as she moves back to the other side of the gardens and, trusting her, Sinclair grabs a single pepper to bring back to camp with him.

He makes his way back to camp and, feeling his newly awakened hunger, eats through some of the rations he had brought with him from home, not quite ready to try the local cuisine. Hunger sated and truly exhausted, he decides to take a short nap and explore more afterwards.

He sleeps for nearly four hours, dreaming of a book he had left back at home. A kind young man who meets a young woman with whom he shares a mysterious past. The young man took the woman out on a beautiful picnic, a spread of bread and wine and cheese and some butter with odd little peppers chopped up through them. 

The couple smiled, placing chaste kisses to each other's mouth as they fed each other bits of bread and cheese.

The man placed a small piece of bread to the woman’s mouth, the peppered butter spread thick on top and she- she moaned at the taste. She did the same for the man and he licked at her fingers, gazing up at her with red, lust filled eyes-

Father Sinclair gasped awake, the memory of his dream painting his cheeks red. He must have... he must have been remembering his assault from that morning. That was all, a horrible memory. 

Nevertheless, he went quickly to his meditation spot and attempted to calm his body. He pressed his cross to his lips, willing away the image of the kind young man from his dream with those... hellish eyes. Willed away the memory of his  _ thoughts  _ against the imp from before. He sat there until the sun was near fading in the sky, the last few hours of light upon him. 

Alright, there’s only so much more time he has to go out, not trusting this accursed place after dark, so he played it safe making his way back out to the lake. At least there, he knows for sure he’s unlikely to run into anything dangerous. On the way there, he keeps watch for any danger, but it’s as if the whole world is avoiding him or worse, watching and analyzing him before he’s hit with the reality of being in this world.

Reaching the lake is an immediate relief and he takes a walk along the bank, eying the farm house in the distance and the far off trees at the other end of the water. He walks for a long while before he feels something new underfoot. 

Beneath his feet is a pathway that leads away from the lake, overgrown and heading into thick foliage. Deciding to be brave and curious, Father Sinclair steps onto the path, following it through dense trees and struggling to follow the pathway until he reaches what must be the end. 

Before him is what was, once, a town or village. The first thing he notices are crumbling walls, behind them destroyed or burned homes, all abandoned to the elements and time. He thinks first, the village must have been attacked by demons, what else would destroy such a place? 

He walked through the ruins, truly seeing the consequences of the demonic scourge of this land. The lives lost or destroyed, a whole community in ashes and rubble.

After a time, he made his way back home, determined to fulfill his duty and make sure something like this never happened again. Besides, it probably wasn’t safe to hang around the ruins if he wasn’t prepared.

The sun had finally set and Father Sinclair settled to sleep, finishing his first day in this new world.


End file.
